Promise To Never Forget Me
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: For the Tragedy Challenge on HPFC. Harry is losing himself and Luna makes it her mission for him never to forget. R


_For the Tragedy Challenge on HPFC, ran by inescapable scars_

_Tragedy: forgetting who you are_

_Pairing: Harry/Luna_

* * *

He buries his head in his hands and just lets the tears drip down his palms, not caring for how 'unmanly' this is, but simply allowing his emotions to become apparent in the most obvious of ways.

He can't… things don't seem to be the same anymore. He wakes up in the morning and he can't remember where he is, who the person is in the bed next to him, _why_ he is here. The only thing he knows is that he is confused…

Slowly, as he wakes up, he remembers where he is, who Luna is, why he is there, but it is patchy. He can't remember what he did yesterday, for instance, gets confused as to why they aren't on the run from Voldemort. He killed Voldemort sixty years ago now, almost to the day, but he thinks it hasn't happened yet.

"Harry?" he hears the voice of his Luna, the one who he has adored for so many years – when he remembers – approaching him.

"What?" he snaps at her, unable to stop himself from being so _angry_. It isn't her fault that he can't remember who he is, that he can't remember where he lives, what he is doing, who he was going to meet. He shouldn't take it out on her… but who else does he take it out on?

She moves to sit down beside him on the soft, golden sand, the grains spreading apart as soon as she sits down next to him. Luna sinks into the sand, levelling herself off with Harry as his body is wracked with the suddenness of the sobs suddenly procured from him.

"It's alright, Harry, it's alright," she comforts him gently, slowly managing to remove the arm closest to her from his face. Then she takes the palm streaked with the residue of the tears and holds it close to her own face, shutting her eyes as she remembers the struggle they have had over the past three years, the decline into dementia he has had.

It began simply enough, she thinks, with him just forgetting the names of their children and the day of the week. But then, then things began to progress further and further as he thought he should be hiding with Ron and Hermione, wondered where Remus was and Fred, tried to explain to Luna about the Horcruxes he thought he still had to find.

It was then that she knew he was ill.

Most of the time, he's pretty ok, only forgetting little things. But she is always there to help him. She never leaves him, never lets him think that he is alone for _one_ minute. She never allows him to do anything stupid or let him hurt himself, something which he is always grateful for when he ends one of his 'episodes'.

It's _Luna_ who is the one who remembers all the times they have had together, manages to ignore the pain when he mistakenly identifies her as Ginny, and ensures that the wonderful life they have shared isn't forgotten – they have photos and their children to remember it by, yet she wants to be able to think back over every time he has made her breakfast in bed or other _perfect_ moments that haven't been worthy of photographing.

Her eyes open slowly as she looks out onto the horizon, her eyes losing their strength but still good enough for her to be able to watch as the sun rises over the bay. It's the most peaceful time of the day, with the birds silenced for a moment or two as the lightness takes away the darkness and the pain associated with it. For these moments, with silence reigning, it's a time for her to think, to recall all those times she will never forget, and remind her why she is fighting so hard to keep Harry here.

"Luna?" Harry's voice breaks the silence, the self doubt evident in the simple one word sentence he says.

"Yes, honey?" she turns her attention from the lightly lapping water onto her husband, her eyes magicking away the lines there brought with age. With the addition of her blue eyes, he is back to the handsome man he once was – still is, under the wrinkles – with no exceptions.

"Why do you keep fighting for me?" he asks, his lower lip trembling in a way that it never would have before this. _He's losing himself_, she thinks to herself, not wanting to admit it but it's the truth.

"I fight for you because you're not strong enough to do it yourself," she answers gently, slowly so that each word hides the quaver in her voice. "I fight for you because you're my husband and I love you. I fight for you because if you leave me, I'll be alone and I can't have that," she continues, a small tear in the corner of her eye.

He lifts his head from his other hand and looks down at her, a warmth in his face that she hasn't seen for years. His face, it's full of the fragility age has brought with it, full of the fear for the future, full of the despair of not knowing _anything_.

"Why?" he repeats, something in his face showing he doesn't think her answer was right. "How? Can you do this forever? Because, no offence, Luna, but I don't think it'll be possible," he continues, each word unintentionally ripping into her skin.

Rejuvenated from the moment to remember their life together and the reasons why she is fighting for him, she smiles and stands up, offering him her hand. He takes it and is pulled to his feet before she wraps herself into his arm, placing her head on his chest as they begin to walk back to their waterside bungalow.

"I fight for you because I love you," she repeats softly. "And I can do this forever, Harry, just so long as you stay with me. Promise me that and I will _never_ give up."

"I promise," he whispers into her grey hair, flecks of the once brilliant blonde throughout it. His lips press against it softly and her eyes shut, the memory of this stance locked into her mind along with the others.

He may be losing himself but he's fighting. And he will fight, fight to the bitter end.

She'll make sure of it.

* * *

_Thoughts?_

_Vicky xx_


End file.
